An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 294 Qingqing
In early July, Meng Youyou recovered and returned to the front-line listening station.

The moment she appeared in the monitoring room, Xiong Ayou, who was engrossed in organizing notes, almost jumped off his chair. He rushed forward to greet her, overjoyed: "Sister Meng, you're back!"

Meng Youyou was standing near the entrance, looking down and closing her umbrella. Hearing the sound, she looked over and smiled at the person, saying casually, "You're back." As she spoke, she brushed the raindrops off her clothes.

As she approached, before the excitement and joy had even subsided, Ayu's gaze suddenly froze, followed by a look of astonishment.

Ayu stared blankly at Meng Youyou's right ear for a while. On that exceptionally fair earlobe, there was a strikingly conspicuous hook-shaped dark green hard plastic shell.

He hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help himself and blurted out, pointing there, "Sister Meng, what happened to your ear?"

Upon hearing this, Meng Youyou's eyelashes trembled slightly, but she didn't answer his question immediately. She first smiled at Ayou, a gentle smile spreading across her eyes, and then changed the subject: "I just ran into Brother Dalei outside. He praised you to me for a long time, saying that you've been doing an exceptionally good job by taking on the responsibilities of your post all by yourself, and that you even made a major discovery last week and received an award."

Meng Youyou bent down and propped the umbrella against the wall. As she turned to the side, she straightened her expression slightly and asked the young boy standing in front of her in a very serious tone, "So, Ayou, do you think you've overcome the coward inside you?"

Ayu, who had been scratching the back of his head, stopped abruptly. He looked up, his gaze meeting Meng Youyou's expectant eyes. He paused for a moment, then nodded firmly, his voice filled with a firmness Meng Youyou had never heard before: "Yes, Sister Meng, I think I did it."

Meng Youyou finally broke into a wide smile, the joy reaching her eyes, warm and bright. She then raised her hand, pointed to the device in her right ear, and softly said, "This is a hearing aid." She honestly answered the question she had previously skipped over.

"A...a hearing aid?" Upon hearing the answer, Ayu's eyes widened instantly, and she stammered, "Sister Meng, your...your ears...?"

Meng Youyou stopped him and said, "Don't worry too much. It's just a little hearing loss in the high frequencies. It's not a big problem."

The condition persisted due to the lack of timely medication. Although daily irrigation and anti-inflammatory treatment effectively controlled the infection in the ear canal and prevented further deterioration, the prolonged treatment still resulted in some degree of hearing loss.

During the month or so that Meng Youyou was stranded in the rear hospital, her hearing condition initially improved, which was a good sign. However, for the next half month, it stagnated. The doctor diagnosed that this was basically the only level she could recover to in her lifetime, and the rest was likely to be permanent hearing loss.

Meng Youyou winked her left eye at Ayou, her voice light and cheerful: "Don't worry, I won't hold you back."

It wasn't a forced smile, nor was it feigned cheerfulness. She accepted this change far more smoothly than she had imagined, even surprising Meng Youyou herself.

Ayu hurriedly explained, "Sister Meng, that's not what I meant."

Meng Youyou's gaze grew increasingly calm and gentle as she shook her head softly: "I know."

...

The tin shack was still empty. Meng Youyou stood a few meters away from the door and looked up. The iron sheets on the roof were covered with rust.

In my memory, the banana leaves that used to be piled up thickly to keep out the rain gradually shrank into a dark brown clump after being exposed to the wind and sun for days on end, as if you could squeeze out sticky juice with a gentle pinch.

In the past, whenever it rained heavily, the rainwater would flow down the tin roof, always carrying these rotten leaves and debris. Some of it would stick to the tin, leaving dark brown streaks that, once dried, became stains that couldn't be washed off. Others would drip directly from the eaves, forming small puddles of muddy water with a putrid smell on the ground.

Everything is so vivid and clear, as if it happened just yesterday.

When Meng Youyou moved back in this time, the dark brown marks on the roof had disappeared, leaving only a bare sheet of iron.

No trace of the banana leaves that once nestled there can be found anymore. The greenery that once sheltered her through countless uneasy nights is gone forever.

Lying in the house, when it rains, like tonight, the roof still rattles, but Meng Youyou no longer finds it so unbearable.

This tin shack had no windows, and once the door was closed, the interior was completely dark with no light source.

It was as if a thick black cloth had been draped over one's eyes, making it impossible to see anything.

Meng Youyou lay quietly on her side on the bed, surrounded by the sound of rain. She held a handmade wooden comb in her hand, her fingertips unconsciously stroking and moving over the comb surface again and again.

While cleaning the house tonight, she suddenly remembered the can of yellow peaches in the box under the bed. Did he take it?
Thinking of this, Meng Youyou immediately put down the broom, ran to the bed frame, squatted down, and effortlessly moved the box that was covered with a thin layer of dust from under the bed. She immediately opened it and, unsurprisingly, he hadn't taken anything, which was very much in line with his character.

But the next second, Meng Youyou turned her gaze and fixed it on a corner next to the can, where a wooden comb lay quietly.

The trees used are camphor trees, which are found everywhere on this mountain.

The room was dark. Holding the wooden comb in her hand, her senses were amplified. She could clearly feel the slightly rough texture of the wood grain. Although its owner had clearly put a lot of effort into polishing the outer edges, trying to make it smooth and comfortable to hold.

When her fingertips once again accurately touched the shallow and deep engraving on the back of the comb, Meng Youyou felt a jolt in her heart. She couldn't lie still any longer, and suddenly sat up, groping her way to the bedside.

Her coat hung on the wall above the bed. She reached out and, in the absolute darkness, expertly slipped her hand into her inner pocket, pulling out a small matchbox. Feeling the outline of the box in the air, Meng Youyou smoothly rubbed the matchstick together, producing a soft "snap."
A tiny but bright flame was born, instantly dispelling the pitch-black darkness.

A tiny cluster of firelight illuminated the fine downy hairs on her forehead, and danced in her clear pupils.

Meng Youyou held her breath, holding up the faint light, and quickly and gently brought the comb in her hand. The engraved words immediately reflected in her eyes—"To my beloved Qingqing".

The warm yellow light gently caressed every stroke of the brush.

Meng Youyou was so engrossed in watching that she didn't blink. This wasn't the first time she had seen these words tonight, and it might not be the last.

Her heart felt completely filled, every corner of her body was filled to the brim, leaving no empty space. Meng Youyou found this feeling hard to describe, but it was like suddenly starting to feel that the rain wasn't noisy, the mosquitoes weren't annoying, and being alone in a dark room didn't feel lonely at all. And that ordinary tomorrow filled her with anticipation.

At the top of the wooden stake, the flames shimmered, yet they paled in comparison to the crystalline radiance flowing within the girl's eyes at this moment, in this scene. How could it possibly rival its brilliance?

Until the flames suddenly burned her fingertips, the light abruptly fell and went out completely, turning into a wisp of slightly pungent gray smoke that drifted into the air, but Meng Youyou could no longer see it.

After a brief moment of light, her vision returned to darkness. Meng Youyou tightened her knuckles and lay back down on the bed. She slowly closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure, but the upturned corner of her lips seemed to have its own ideas, refusing to return to its original position for a long time. She was completely helpless against it and could only let it be.

She was still holding a hard object in her hand, and perhaps it was due to some subtle psychological influence, but the part with the engraving was pressed against the skin of her palm, making the tactile sensation particularly noticeable.

Meng Youyou inexplicably felt a slight itch there, and her knuckles loosened a little, only to tighten again a few seconds later, repeating this strangely over and over again.

The person lying peacefully in bed suddenly had a brain fart, rolled over, hugging the blankets, to the other side of the bed, and then rolled back. Finally, the girl couldn't help but bury her face in the pillow.

...

Life at the observation post remained the same, a mix of monotony and thrills that permeated every day and night. The repetitive, tedious work offered little novelty, yet new challenges constantly emerged.

Two weeks later, one evening, the afterglow of the setting sun bathed the observation post in a solemn, pale gold. A small, weary team appeared there as silently as ghosts.

The man at the head of the group wore a dirty Y Army uniform, his face smeared with dried mud, and spoke with a thick Shaanxi accent. He introduced himself: "Code name, Leopard."

Xiong Ayou was asked to leave the listening room. The door was closed from the outside by their men. Several unfamiliar faces, dressed in mixed clothes and with cold expressions, silently surrounded the small room, making it completely airtight.

Only Meng Youyou and the team leader, who called himself "Leopard," remained in the room.

Without any pleasantries, the man took out a slightly damp waterproof oilcloth bag from his inner pocket, deftly opened it layer by layer, and finally revealed an official document stamped with a bright red "Top Secret" seal.

He pushed the official document in front of Meng Youyou, his voice low but heavy: "Comrade Meng Youyou, by order of the forward command, I hereby issue you the 'Awakening of Insects' operation order."

"The C theater captured a senior chemical technology staff officer of the Y army in the early hours of yesterday. His identity has been verified and he is of great intelligence value."

"The enemy is searching for this person at all costs and has deployed strong interception and defense along multiple transportation lines connecting the C-zone base to the rear. Therefore, the prisoner evacuation plan is extremely risky. The command ultimately decided to conduct an on-site interrogation within twelve hours."

The man's gaze was sharp as he stared intently at Meng Youyou. He continued, "The interrogation team is in place, but we are short of a translator who is fluent in Y language and familiar with military terminology. You are the person specifically selected by the General Headquarters."

"My team is responsible for escorting you safely from the A-zone observation post to the C-zone 'Dongfeng' outpost within six hours."

"This route avoids the enemy's main blockade zone, but it is a long journey with many variables and high risks. You must obey orders unconditionally and remain silent throughout the entire journey."

"Do you understand the mission?"

Meng Youyou listened quietly, trying to process and convince herself to accept this sudden influx of information. She took a deep breath, her gaze sweeping once more over the glaring "Top Secret" stamp, then looked up, her eyes regaining their usual calm: "Understood."

"Okay." The man grabbed the document, skillfully lit a corner with a match, and watched it quickly shrink, char, and turn to ashes.

Meng Youyou stared at the ashes on the man's hand, which slowly fell into the aluminum bucket.

"The weather is likely to be bad tonight, so get ready." With that, the man opened his backpack and took out a bundle tightly wrapped in waterproof tape.

Meng Youyou took it, and gently peeled it open along the seam of the tape with her fingertips, revealing the contents: clothes identical to what they were wearing, plus a dark green raincoat.

"We'll be leaving in five minutes," the leopard said finally, leaving no room for negotiation.